Come for the funeral, stay for the circus

Athletic trainers (particularly the student version) have always been a little crazy. I think it's the nature of the job - you are always working with people, you are involved in athletics which can be very emotional, and you work very long hours. All this leads to a little craziness and a lot of laughs, and sometimes some drunkeness (ATs are often called "Alcoholics with an Athletic Training problem" or "AT = Alcohol Tolerance").

This past weekend, an intelligent, kind, patient, and loving Athletic Trainer was put to rest. Obviously, he was more than a trainer; he was a husband, a father of 4, a man of abundant faith, and a friend to all. He was my professor and advisor for 3 1/2 years before I left the program. A handful of alumni were on-hand at his funeral service to say their goodbyes and bring best wishes from the rest who couldn't make it. The services were supportive, communal, and above all, hopeful. We left feeling better than when we'd arrived, as if it were only appropriate to continue on as Mark would have, with happiness born out of faith that things were as they should be.

Of course, when you get a bunch of people with common interests together, funny things will happen. One alumni noticed that one of Mark's friends was a man whose picture we'd seen in a class Mark taught. The man was born without clavicles (collar-bones for you non-science types) and boasted of his ability to crush a beer can between his shoulders. Naturally, every alumni on-hand took a picture with him (see above), much to Mark's wife's DELIGHT. That's the kind of people they all are - happiness and fun always overcome the sadness life inevitably brings.

I'm sad for Mark's family's loss, and for the loss of future students who will not get the chance to partake in his great knowledge and kindness. But, for those of us who got the chance to know him, however briefly, we are certainly blessed and would do well to carry his legacy of selflessness with us in our lives.

Thanks for everything. I can only hope that my life will be celebrated with the fondness your passing required. You were a living lesson, more than I even realized, and even if I cannot remember the exact settings for Russian stim, I will always remember to be kind to all and to find the simpler side of everything. May you at last have peace, wherever you are.